


Within the Golden Hour

by orphan_account



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Emotional Steph, Essentially a London Travel Guide, Fluff, Holiday, I'm a big fan of Royal Opera House, M/M, a little bit smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 19:16:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20013442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Inspired by Steph's trip to London in early May. I didn't know whether Deniss was with them, so I assume that he wasn't.This is completely fictional.





	Within the Golden Hour

They decided to spend the vacation-a part of the vacation-in London.  
They’ve been to the vibrant city many times. It’s an amalgam of modern life with traditional style, where a mixture of old stone buildings and skyscrapers dominating the skyline, and where suits and evening ball gowns rubbing shoulders with vibrantly coloured hair, leather jackets and ripped jeans.  
But the British weather is not always that friendly, sometimes even miserable. A cloudy and gloomy afternoon greeted them when they first landed in London, and it started to rain in the evening.  
“I guess it’s not really a good time to go for a walk now,” Chris opened the curtain and looked out from the window of their hotel room, “Do you want to wait until the rain stops?”  
Stephane opened the window and reached out his palm outside to feel the rain. “Actually it’s not too bad. It should be fine without an umbrella, or-” He turned to his lover and grinned, “I can hold it for you if you really hate it that much?”  
“Let’s go then?” Chris closed the window, “before it gets dark.”  
They walked into the drizzles of early May. They still brought an umbrella just in case, but didn’t use it when they got outdoors. Most of the locals were too lazy to use it anyway, in the narrow streets of central London.  
They didn’t have anywhere specific in mind. They weren’t that interested in visiting the tourist-y attractions, plus they’d be closed in a few minutes if not already closed; and London is an amazing city to explore on foot.  
The rain had stopped when they walked through St James Park, where the ducks and swans swam lazily in water. Stephane saw the children feeding them with small pieces of bread, stopped for a while and fumbled in his red jacket pocket. He cheered happily when he found a small packet of biscuits, tore the package open and tried to attract their attention.  
He’s always a child. Chris smiled as he saw Stephane surrounded by birds and ducks, and took out his phone for a photo.  
“Do you think they could be suffering from obesity and probably hypertension and all that?” Stephane looked back when they started moving along the lake, “if they’re constantly fed every day?”  
“You just contributed to it.” Chris pointed out, “But they also exercise every day, which might just balance out.”  
They saw the Buckingham Palace and the people in front of the railings trying to get a picture, before turning onto the Mall.  
“I can almost imagine how beautiful it will be,” Stephane commented, “on a sunny autumn evening.”  
“Why autumn?”  
Stephane turned to his lover and unexpectedly met Chris’s gaze before he could explain ‘autumn’. He quickly turned back and pretended to look at the semi-circular beautiful Arch, with a hint of pink on his ears. “I mean, with the buildings on one side and the park on the other, leaves falling down in the dusk…and the evening afterglow from the arch?”  
“Hmm, probably you’re right.” Chris grinned as he saw his lover blushing, “it should be beautiful.”  
They walked through the most crowded streets in the city after crossing the Arch. There were people with all the different looks, attires and speaking different languages; the tourists taking photos, the youth picnicking on the benches and the elderly with the signature British accents, vocabulary and gaits.  
They passed through a Catholic church on their way back to the hotel, and people were just coming out from evening prayer. Stephane walked to the noticing board to find out prayer times.  
“They have service in Portuguese!” Stephane pointed to the timetable, “Portuguese, 4pm, Saturday afternoon…what day is it today?”  
“Tuesday.” Chris winked, “Do you want to reschedule the next few days?” Their flight is leaving on Friday morning.  
Stephane looked a little disappointed, but still declined it. “No, the vacation is long enough. I’m ready to go back to work-I’m starting to miss the ice and my skates.”  
They had dinner in a pub tucked away in a quiet street, just off the buzz of Oxford Circus. It’s kind of a hit or miss to eat in the most central yet the most tourist-y areas in London, but the food was exceptionally good. Not to mention the fantastic London Pride Ale.

They lied in the next morning, until the morning light peeking through the narrow gap between two pieces of curtains shifted onto their shared bed.  
Of course they’ve missed the hotel breakfast, so they decided to find a café for brunch. They’ve managed to find two seats at the bar in the busy restaurant, facing the friendly baristas.  
“I’ve never expected a café to be so frequented at 10am on a weekday.” Stephane looked at the queue outside the door, “it must be really popular.”  
Chris thanked the barista for their hot drinks, “It’s either a lot of advertisement, or really good food.”  
Stephane took a sip of his Matcha latte, “I hope it’s the latter. And judging from the drink, it might be.”  
Their scrambled egg with mushrooms came quickly, but they’ve waited sometime for the hotcakes. “That’s more than what I would expect from British food,” Stephane commented as he took a bite of the soft and fluffy egg seasoned with a little bit of pepper, “and now I understand why there’s so many people coming for it.”  
“To be honest, it isn’t that bad. It just gets repetitive over time.” Chris shrugged, “Sausage and beef, potato and roasted chicken?”  
Stephane made a face, “Sounds terribly unhealthy. –Wait, what is that?” He stared at the hotcakes, “the hotcakes are nice, but the banana?”  
“It’s not banana. You just took a bite of the butter.” Chris spread the remaining butter with his knife, “The banana is on the side.” He laughed when seeing his lover’s sullen face, “You just need to be more careful the next time.”  
Stephane pretended to show an angry face but bursted into laughter immediately.  
The weather still wasn’t ideal in the afternoon. They didn’t agree where to go initially, opinions split between the British Museum, where they visited last time in London but never managed to see everything, and the National Gallery. In the end, they opened both websites on their phone to see if there’s anything particularly interesting.  
“Sorolla?” Chris pointed to the piece of artwork on his phone, “Do you want to take a look at his work? We might need a dose of sunlight now.”  
Stephane scrolled down, “Hmm. We left Southern Europe only 2 days ago, but I miss the sun there.”

It’s still a rainy evening, like the day before. They strolled down the busiest road in London, with department stores and boutiques lining both sides of it.  
“Hublot!” Stephane pointed to the shop opposite the street, “Do you think I should do a jump here as well?”  
Chris crossed the street with him and captured his jump. “How many Hublot jumps have you collected?”  
“Three? Four?”Stephane watched the short video on the phone, “I didn’t count. That looks good, I could finally update my instagram today.”  
Chris collected their ticket from the box office when they’ve arrived at the Opera House, while Stephane went to the kiosk to get a programme booklet.  
“Oh.” Stephane passed the cast sheet to Chris, “They won’t be happy programmes-besides the first one.”  
Chris opened the cast sheet and read the synopsis. “Isn’t it expected? It’s Medusa. And another one is about refugees.”  
It’s true that it wasn’t a happy dance. Chris heard his lover sobbing not even halfway through the performance of the Russian ballerina, passed some tissue paper to him and silently held his hand.  
“That was amazing!” Stephane exclaimed during the intermission after the crowd gave the dancers a standing ovation, “There was so much tension and…just very intense.” He opened the programme booklet again to find the article about the choreography behind it and read it again. “But she didn’t seem to be free in the end. What do you think?”  
Chris thought about her last dance. “She was…struggling. Maybe she’s questioning herself? Freedom and that..emotional relief came only after you’ve reconciled with your past.”  
They sat through another emotionally intense dance, and Stephane cried again during the pas de deux when the mother struggled to reach her died child, as the soprano sang the Lament.  
Only until the whole performance ended and they walked to the brightly lit foyer, did Chris manage to look at his lover closely. He was in tears during most parts of the two performances, and he apologized to the gray-haired lady sitting beside him for it.  
“No, it’s absolutely fine.” The lady spoke with a distinct English accent, “It was really good, isn’t it?”  
They made some small talk when waiting for other people to exit. “By the way, if you don’t mind me asking, where are you from?” The lady asked when they just managed to move out of the auditorium.  
“Switzerland.” Stephane replied, “we are on holiday here.”  
“Switzerland!” the lady exclaimed, “how lovely. It’s a shame that our weather isn’t that welcoming, at least not ideal for a holiday.”  
Stephane smiled, “But there’s the ballet tonight.”  
“Well, yes, I hope it could make up for the miserable weather.” The lady waved them goodbye, “Have a lovely time here in London!”  
The rain became heavier, so they opted for the tube. After getting the ticket from the machine and tapped in, they encountered a massive queue for the lift.  
“Shall we take the stairs?” Stephane whined as he saw the queue, “Oh my god, there’s so many people.”  
Chris pointed to the sign on the wall, “It’s equivalent to 15 floors, and the announcement just recommended waiting for the lift for a few minutes.”  
“I just saw a woman with her heels and dress walking down. Come on, and it’s going downstairs, which shouldn’t be too tiring.” Chris followed his lover, who moved down swiftly. It took only about six minutes for them to reach the platform.  
“It is faster than taking the lift.” Stephane saw another group of people walking out from the elevator, “Remember the man with checkered tie? He was in front of us when we tapped in.”  
Chris smiled, “Faster by only a minute.”  
They didn’t speak much after escaping from the crowded tube. Chris noticed Stephane’s little hand and arm movement, and knew that he was thinking about his own choreography for the ice show later this month. It’s not new for him to take inspirations from other performances.

When they were back in the hotel room, Stephane played the music which he would be skating to in the ice show later this month, and made some more movements to it.  
“Do you think it’s better than what I choreographed before?” He tried another sequence, “That might flow better?”  
Chris waved his phone, “I can’t exactly remember what was it like before, but I can record it for you. You’ll forget what you did afterwards anyway.”  
Stephane took off his knitted top and was wearing only a T-shirt suitable for moving around, “Hmm. I can try a few times.”  
Chris wasn’t really watching how the performance flowed during Stephane’s trials. In fact, they were not anywhere like a complete choreography. He stopped and pondered along the way, flipping his hands and arms and trying different steps. But he didn’t need a complete choreography or a costume to be a joy to watch. Even just in his loose T-shirt and stretchy jeans, without the speed on ice, his body movements are beautiful and out-of-the-world.  
“Chris?” Stephane turned off the music and walked towards him, “What do you think?”  
Chris was pulled back to where they were. “Everything’s recorded. I liked the part where you extended your arm and arched backwards. What step will you pair it with?”  
“I’m not sure about the steps yet, and that’s why I miss the ice.” Stephane sat down on the bed beside his lover, “let’s see…”  
They played the recording with occasional pauses and repeats, discussing along the way. Neither of them remembered why they started to laugh together and eventually ended up lying on the mattress with intertwined limbs.  
“Did we bring…?”Stephane blinked, “I didn’t even think about it when packing.”  
Chris opened their suitcase and found them in their toiletries pouch. “We did.”  
They exchanged power and switched between different positions while holding on to each other closely. The phone was discarded on the carpet, along with their nightclothes.  
And Stephane was sobbing again when their passion slowly subsided.  
“Steph?” Chris pulled him closer and stroked his hair, “Are you alright? Did..did it hurt?”  
Stephane shook his head. “No, it was great. I was…thinking of her.”  
“Her?” Chris peppered a few light kisses on his lover’s jawline, “who?”  
“Medusa, or…the ballerina?” Stephane pressed his cheek to Chris’s shoulder, “This should be enjoyable for both. It should be for people who are in love, or at least have some mutual attraction, to indulge each other. Why was everything so cruel for her?”  
Chris gently caressed his lover’s back, knowing that he wasn’t expecting any verbal reply.  
“She was punished, or ‘empowered’, for something which she didn’t even want to.” Stephane continued, “And she weren’t able to love another person again. Both pas de deux, and what they depicted, were…I saw misery there. She was struggling. Her lover was struggling. She eventually became too tired to deal with all this and let her lover take her life. How desperate and sad will Perseus be when he fought her and killed her?”  
Chris covered both of them under the duvet, “Steph, it’s a story from Greek mythology.” He kissed his lover softly and tenderly, “It’s late. Sweet dreams.” Stephane could usually get out of the performances quickly once it ended. It might be the intensity of the choreography and the expressiveness of the dancers which trapped him tonight, or just because he was thinking of it when touching up his own programme.  
Chris turned the lights off and wrapped Stephane in his arms, as both of them fell into sleep.

It was finally not raining in their last day in London. They took a walk along the Thames, with children running in the green spaces and some boats passing by.  
It could get hot when the sun was shining, and the sunlight could be glaring. Stephane saw something along the river bank and ran towards it, leaving only a “Just a few minutes” to his lover who was people-watching on the bench.  
He came back a few minutes later with an ice cream cone in hand. They shared the dessert before it melted down under the sun, while occasionally wiping away some cream from the corners of each other’s lips.  
“Now I understand where the inspiration of the costume design comes from.” Stephane watched the water flowing by in the river, “Look.”  
Chris looked along the direction he pointed to. “The costume?”  
“For ‘Within the Golden Hour’, the glittering dresses and bodysuits which change color with the lighting on the stage.” Stephane supported his chin on both palms, “Just look at the river under the evening sun.”  
The golden rays flickered on the waves of the water.

**Author's Note:**

> •The National Gallery had an exhibition of Sorolla's work from March to July. Unfortunately I think it just ended :(
> 
> •The three comtemporary ballets mentioned:
> 
> Within the Golden Hour:  
> A short clip: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_gXio2zu-l0  
> Interview: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TBacNHJs19k
> 
> Medusa :  
> A Short clip: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i9sAjrQ_qH0  
> Interview: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oUwoz0XmszA
> 
> The Flight Pattern:  
> A short clip:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GrNfZ6pCn9M  
> Interview: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qPy9TesbS8w


End file.
